


cold smoke seeping out

by mochasweets



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochasweets/pseuds/mochasweets
Summary: Oliver Wood was a different man now. Started from the easiest; the way he dressed, the way he held the crystal glass in his hand, and the way he moved – careful, steady,calculated. But what Marcus noticed the most, was the way Oliver regarded him with the same apprehension he used to show in front of Mr. Wood’s colleagues. And Marcus would be lying if he said it didn’t make something in his gut wrench.
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Kudos: 20





	cold smoke seeping out

_“Two feet standing on a principle  
Two hands longing for each others warmth  
Cold smoke seeping out of colder throats  
Darkness falling, leaves nowhere to go”  
— Still, Daughter._

When Marcus checked on Oliver in his room, the man was sitting on the balcony, nursing a drink while leisurely lying down on the old rattan chair. It’s fucking 3 o’clock in the morning, Wood must had lost his mind. But, Marcus supposed, time was hardly a matter when you’re being a prisoner. Or at least something similar. 

“So, how’s it going?” Marcus greeted as he took a vacant seat beside Oliver across the little iron table.

“It’s funny how sneaky I could be to steal a bottle of wine, but not sneaky enough to get myself out of here.” Oliver chuckled humorlessly and said, in a rather sullen voice before he took a sip, “Guess that says a lot about me, eh?”

Silence fell between them when Marcus didn’t reply. He refused to acknowledge the inevitable. Oliver was a strong headed lad, he wouldn’t forget all wrongs people had done to him, much less forgive them. And something deep inside Marcus told him that he currently stood among Oliver’s list of people he would burn at the stake if he could.

However, the thought didn’t make Marcus’ longing for the other man lesser. In fact, the first time he was shown the profile of his new subject, Marcus had tried his damnedest to not kill everyone in his sight, or just forget everything and run away with that precious remnant of his childhood. He’s relieved he didn’t do neither.

Oliver Wood was a different man now. Started from the easiest; the way he dressed, the way he held the crystal glass in his hand, and the way he moved – careful, steady, _calculated_. But what Marcus noticed the most, was the way Oliver regarded him with the same apprehension he used to show in front of Mr. Wood’s colleagues. And Marcus would be lying if he said it didn’t make something in his gut wrench.

Marcus watched as the wind pulling at Oliver’s hair, the distant look on the man’s face as his eyes roamed over the labyrinth that was laid in front of them. If Marcus didn’t know better, he’d say Oliver was reminiscing.

Wood’s mansion had a huge labyrinth in their backyard.

Oliver used to hide there when his family started to overwhelm him. Marcus was the only person he’d always let to find him.

“What are you doing, Flint? You shouldn’t be here.”

“Checking up on you,” Marcus replied. “As someone who’s assigned to watch you, I have to know what you’re doing, don’t you think?”

Oliver stayed silent.

“You better go to sleep, it’s 3 in the morning. Morrison would want to see you after lunch.”

“You shouldn’t be here, you know,” Oliver repeated instead, talking as if Marcus didn’t say anything. “How’s your pursuit of happiness coming along? Found your true self, then, I reckon? What a bliss.”

Marcus sighed as he pulled a box of cigarettes and a lighter from his jeans pocket. “I didn’t run away to find it,” Marcus said with a cigarette between his pressed lips. He cupped his hand around to block the wind as he lighted it up, then inhaled before finally blew the smoke to the air.

Oliver clicked his tongue, he made a hand gesture to beckon Marcus closer. When he leaned forward, Oliver plucked the cigarette out of his fingers.

“Your family’s got some dirty business going, sure, but it’s only a few years and all of it would be yours, and you could do whatever you want with it,” Oliver said before putting the butt between his lips, amber lights burning at the tip when he took a drag. Marcus suppressed the sudden urge to kiss the man.

“It’s not about the business,” he managed to whisper despite being entranced by the way the younger man in front of him burning his lungs.

“Yeah?” Oliver turned to him for a moment. “What’s with the hurry, then? Hmm? What made you so keen on getting away from me?”

The spell broke.

“I didn’t do this to get away from you,” Marcus glowered. “I thought we’re clear that this is not about anything else but me? I ran for myself, Wood. If I didn’t get the hell out of there, I’d lose myself. You know that.”

“Ha, you bloody well did,” Oliver chuckled. “And now you’re like, what, a mercenary? A hired gun? Your accomplishment is astonishing it inspires me to become a reverend.”

Marcus held Oliver’s wrist before the man could take another hit. He said through gritted teeth, “Cut the bullshit, Wood. You want to get out of here? Come with me, we’ll find a way, no need—“

Oliver yanked his wrist free and pushed Marcus to sit back on his chair with his other hand. It was a rather harsh force, he nearly knocked the glass and the wine bottle on the table between them. Marcus saw as Oliver sending him a warning look, something that suggested him to stay in his place.

“You know what? For once, I thought everything’s going to be alright,” Oliver continued as if nothing happened, back to lie on the chair again, head's up towards the sky. “It’s okay that I’m stuck with that horrible family of mine and their dirty business and their never-ending, unrealistic expectations of me. Because in the back of my mind, in the most sincere, naïve part of it, at least I still have you,” Oliver rasped, then throwing the cigarette away from the balcony when he said, “And you just left and father’s dead.”

“Oh, come on! I climbed up to your room, asking you—“

“Yeah, and does that change everything now?” Oliver snapped, he didn’t even seem to care about the volume anymore. “Huh? Can’t answer that? You left, Flint. I’ve been dealing with all this bullshit alone, I don’t need your fucking help now.” Then, with a tilted head and narrowed eyes, he said in low voice, “I should’ve just left your drown in that pool. Someone else would probably save you anyway.”

Marcus sighed for the second time before bringing his hand to mess up with his own hair. “This is what I’m talking about.”

He could hear Oliver snorted in front of him.

“Have you even heard yourself?” Marcus asked in frustration. “You’re not supposed to be like this, Ol.”

Before Marcus could stop him, Oliver grabbed his glass again, taking the wine in one gulp. “Perhaps I’ve lost myself the day you disappeared.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted @ [tumblr](https://sectumsemphra.tumblr.com/post/151564745581/marcus-flint-x-oliver-wood-au-two-feet) on October 9th 2016 with a few tiny changes.


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